


supernova

by burlesquecomposer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, sorry this is just short and sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burlesquecomposer/pseuds/burlesquecomposer
Summary: After missions, Shiro often needs to calm down with someone who doesn't know who he used to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RinChanSanMatsuoka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinChanSanMatsuoka/gifts).



> Written as a request drabble. Sappy as all hell. Enjoy <3

It’s become a routine, lately, for Allura and Shiro to sit alone together after missions. They’ve been getting rougher and rougher, and Shiro can only keep himself from falling apart for so long, so he reserves himself for later when he can fall apart slowly, carefully, safely into her hands after the others have gone to bed.

Maybe there’s something about the lack of expectations when it comes to Allura. All the other paladins know who Shiro used to be, but that’s not who Shiro is now. As much as he sometimes hates to admit it, round-the-clock torture and cage-fighting have changed him, made him something else entirely. And sure, he likes to think he still has a good heart, that his instinct will always do the right thing, but in battle he feels it again — the surge of incredible power that he knows could kill, easily, and the energy buzzing through his cybernetic arm that reminds him that the transformation isn’t just all in his head, it’s a literal part of him now.

But Allura knows him only as this. Shiro doesn’t need to pretend for her, put on masks of his former youth, try and convince her that he’s still the same prodigy who left Earth a year ago. She seems to have no desire to force him back to his old self, and it makes for a strange sort of comfort to know that he will be like this forever and all that’s left to do is move forward.

That’s Allura. Always forward. It’s why she’s a good leader, perhaps better than he is, though Shiro tends to keep that thought to himself and says it in as few words as “thank you” when she holds his inorganic hand in both of hers like it still has warmth to give.

“I’ve been… meaning to ask you something,” Shiro says carefully.

“Sure.”

They speak softly on these nights, despite the fact that there’s no one to hide from. They’re alone in the control room, scattered over the steps that lead up to the deck. She sits a few steps above him and he rests his head on her knee, the pressure on his temple doing wonders for the steady throb at the nape of his neck from helmet pressure. But he sits up now, though he’s reluctant to let go of that feeling.

“Can I kiss you?”

He’s been afraid to cross into this territory, knowing what it might do to them. By asking, Shiro risks having _this,_ these gentle nights, these healing moments. But he feels like he’s doing her a disservice through dishonesty by not bringing it out into the open.

Allura tilts her head a little and says, “Why?” and Shiro almost laughs.

“Because I think it would be nice with you.”

“Oh,” she says, soft. “Where? My hand?”

“It’s a start.”

He does it for her, happy to, cradles her hand like he’s almost afraid to break it. When Shiro looks up at Allura, her smile fills his lungs with warmth and manages to steal the air from them all the same.

“It’s a start?” she says.

“Well.” Shiro averts his gaze, nervous. “I meant on the lips.”

“Why would we do that?”

“It’s romantic. On Earth, at least.”

“Hmm.” Allura hasn’t yet taken her hand out of Shiro’s, lets him stroke his thumb along her wrist. “Altean romantic gestures are a bit… different, I suppose.”

“What do you do?”

“I’ll show you.”

Allura gets up close, close enough for Shiro to wonder if she’s just playing with him. But she leans down over him and their foreheads come together. The jewel of her crown presses at his bare skin. Allura’s eyes are shut, so Shiro closes his too, and they sit like this for what seems like minutes until their slow breaths are in-sync with one another. Their noses brush, and Shiro finally laughs, quietly, and luckily Allura doesn’t seem offended as she backs off of him.

“So that’s, what. An Altean kiss?”

“More or less,” she says. “It represents communication. We spend all our lives in our own heads, but this way our minds touch, we get to know one another, we feel someone with us. We create a connection.”

Shiro nods, still feeling the pressure ghost-like at his forehead. He’s not sure if Alteans are more in-tune with something he can’t access as a human, but nevertheless he feels far more peaceful than he had when this night started.

“Can we do that again?”

Allura chuckles. “Two in one night? What would Coran say?”

She obliges, meeting his forehead once more, and Shiro’s brain activity slows. They’re out in space, riding a rocket-ship castle carrying an all-powerful weapon made of sentient robotic lions, drifting until their next venture out to defeat a ten-thousand-year-old alien warlord, and Shiro could care less.

A single bright star is already here, in this room, contained in a powerful, beautiful being. But the warmth of her skin against his, very real, here, tangible.

“Can I show you how we kiss on Earth?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah,” Allura whispers through a smile.

Shiro beams and tilts to slot their lips together and feels like he’s never been more at-home in the middle of the universe.

Two stars colliding, and between them, a supernova.


End file.
